


Omertà

by WeirdButIloveIt



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Attempt at Humor, Blood and Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan-centric, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia NCT, Mark Lee (NCT)-centric, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Morally Ambiguous Character, Organized Crime, POV Third Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdButIloveIt/pseuds/WeirdButIloveIt
Summary: Donghyuck didn't ask for this, for any of this, and yet, he's still the one paying the price.When Lee Donghyuck's life is pulled out from under him by a well-known crime syndicate, he finds himself left with two choices, assimilate or suffer the consequences. Trust is a tricky thing in Neo City, respect is something handed out to anyone with a title. Donghyuck is suffocating. Who can he trust?How many times can a person break before they shatter?
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	1. End to Start

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this is my first NCT fic and the first fic that I'm actually going to try and keep up with. I'll try my best to update either weekly or bi-weekly since it's summer break for University.
> 
> Trigger warning: Graphic violence and Character Death! Seriously, this is a dark chapter.
> 
> Please enjoy!

It was strange. Fire danced around him enticing everything to join in its heat, and yet all he felt was cold. Smoke burned his lungs with every trembling inhale, leaving him to cough up ash and debris. He was pretty sure he was bleeding, from one wound or more he was unsure, but the sticky substance dripping from his eyebrow seemed to confirm his suspicions. 

He tried to move but everything seemed to be frozen, everything except the fire which blazed with the life he seemed to be losing. Everything was dark, the sun had set what looked like hours ago. Stars hung above him, looking down at him with pity. His head hurt, needles prodding into various parts of his scalp. His stomach burned, fireworks blurred his vision with every inhale.

Through hazy eyes and smokey air, he could faintly make out a silhouette or two on the ground not 10 feet from where he lay on his back. He tried to call to them, but all that came out was a gurgling sound, a choked cry of a drowning animal. 

The silhouettes made no move to acknowledge him. The boy furrowed his brow, bringing his hands up into his field of vision. They were smudged, dirt and grime caked his skin, blood leaked from some cuts on his palms. He reached out for the figures, in hope that maybe they'd see him.

He reached for a minute, laying there his arm held far from his torso until a sudden twinge of pain seemed to clear his vision. There, he noticed, was a reason the figures, bodies, weren't coming to help him, and why they never would. The fire, in its dance, its desire to consume, had paraded up the backs of the figures, light flickering off them as if they were the flame itself. 

A smell, one he'd never forget, wafted through the air, a sob ripping from his throat as it became clearer what it was holding. He let his arm fall, coupled along with his hopes. He closed his eyes, too tired to move, and just as annoyed. He had been lying there for far too long. 

A wave of nausea hit him hard, his eyes watering and throat buckling under the burning bile struggling to escape his mouth. He let his head lull to the side once more, and suddenly he was choking. He curled into himself, hacking up pitch liquid coupled with a sickly yellow substance from his stomach. As he moved, the pain in his stomach exploded, a garbled scream ripping from his throat. He forced his eyes to open in his agony, ordering them to search for anyone that could help him. 

There was no one. 

How could there be no one? Sure, he was on the outskirts of the city, far from where the business of daily life, but there was always someone around as they wandered from home to home. Where were they? Panic seized him as he continued to choke, sorrow filled him as he remembered. He clawed at his throat, fingernails piercing his jugular as they wrestled with an invisible assailant, one that was cutting off his air supply. 

Vaguely in the back of his mind, he remembered the walls of fire, and how they were closing in on him with each passing second, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Fear had consumed him long before the fire ever got the chance. He tried to gulp down air, the dirtiness of it forced him to cough harder. His breathing picked up and he could feel his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if that would be the last time he'd ever hear the beating of his own heart. 

He was lightheaded, his head felt so empty and yet full of worry at the same time. Over the roaring in his ears he could hear the hoarseness of his cough, deafening wheezing coming from his lungs, the crackle of the fire somewhere in the distance. It was becoming too much too fast, and the boy felt his consciousness waiver, sensation and sense failing him when he needed them. 

As his eyes unwillingly fell to a close, one last echo of gunfire ripped through the air. A shout followed, and not soon after, the scuffing of heavy boots on gravel was the last thing Lee Donghyuck heard before falling into oblivion. 

~

As one of the border communities between two rivaling families, they should have been more prepared for what happened.

They weren’t, and nobody ever is. 

Donghyuck laid on the grass, a light breeze making the long strands beneath him flutter, tickling at his arms. He relished in the smell of the earth around him, the scent of petrichor had always been his favorite, how the wetness of the land after a heavy rain left a reminder of its purity. He sighed in contempt, children’s laughter sang through the air from the market down the road, infecting him and everyone around them with their gleeful melody.

He was at peace even in that time of uncertainty and violence. Donghyuck had seen the news, the center of the city had turned into a cesspool of crime and greed. Everyone in Neo City was aware of the syndicates, the tension growing between them, and the anger that seemed to permeate from the depths of the city as though the cement itself held a vendetta against the very feet that walked upon it. It hadn’t mattered to Donghyuck, why would it? He had nothing to his name but the mud stains that seemed to have seeped from his clothes into his very existence. They could fight all they pleased and none of it would matter.

Except, it did.

Under that ancient oak tree, the one at the end of the town, he stared off into the cotton clouds that dotted the setting salmon sky. He’d been dozing, deciding he’d done enough work for the day. Donghyuck may have nothing, but he was good with his hands and quick on his feet. He’d landed himself a small job working for an old woman as a tailor, weaving, stitching, and sewing fabric together, repairing rips and tears as though they’d never occurred in the first place. He had more to do but his task was quickly forgotten, the quilted sky was more beautiful than anything he cared to weave. 

The scream came before the gunshot. 

It was a shrill sound, Donghyuck could tell it came from one of the elder women in the neighborhood. He shot into a sitting position, sudden cries and loud percussion rattling in his ears. His heart echoed in his chest and ears, pulsing with the bullets fired.

_ Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang. _

Donghyuck jumped to his feet, the serenity the sky had gifted him replaced with fear as anxiety curled uncomfortably in his chest. He made his way towards the market, his eyes flickering past the seemingly empty stalls as he passed. It had never been nice, ripped up curtains and muddy tarps were the only things that separated vendor from vendor. The sun rained down on the street, ripening all good fruits and soiling meats quicker than they could sell. It was what it was, the poor remain poor, the cycle is inescapable in Neo City. Donghyuck had found himself there often after the loss of his parents. In what Donghyuck assumed to have been fighting, the stalls had been knocked over, tarps and fruits lay baking in the evening sun, the molten concrete sweltering, cooking them from the bottom up; there was no refuge, even in their own shadow. Donghyuck found it hard to believe that all of these people had left their livelihood unattended to. 

Where did they go? 

He picked up the pace, eyes tracing along the rows of flowers and blankets, clothing and spices. The sudden silence tore into him, ringing in his ears louder than any scream ever could. Where did they go?

Angry yells broke through the evening air as Donghyuck crouched, bending down with his hands on his knees, winded. He was getting closer.

He continued to run, his hair falling into his eyes, sweat beginning to collect on his brow in the August heat. He brushed it away huffing heavily, continuing his at a steady pace. He questioned why he was running, why he even cared; he didn’t have any attachments to the slum he’d found himself in, nor with the people who dwelled within it. Well, except two. He ran faster.

As he approached, his eyes landed upon the source of the yelling, a crowd of his peers had gathered around something, someone; Donghyuck guessed it was probably the source of the gunshots. The crowd looked on, enraged screams muffling the cries of panic and confusion among them. Little boys and little girls held their mothers’ hands hiding behind their legs, eyes wide in confusion and unbroken innocence. 

Donghyuck broke into the crowd, bowing his head to those he passed, murmuring a soft ‘excuse me’ to those he pushed. It went on deaf ears as the voices escalated the closer he came to the front of the mob. 

A hand grabbed his, gently pulling him to a stop. “Duckie?” 

Donghyuck looked down at the tiny hand that was gripping his own. Its owner, a six-year-old girl named Lucia, watched him expectantly, her long coffee hair braided along the crown of her head. 

Donghyuck bent down with a smile, his knees aching in resistance. He placed a hand on the girl's head, “Lucy, do you know what’s happening here?” She stared up at him, honey eyes glistening in acknowledgment. The crowd pushed forward, Donghyuck held onto Lucia, keeping her from being swept away within the screams. She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by another voice. 

“Honesty, Lee Donghyuck, you think this little one would have any idea what’s happening here? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Nonna, it’s nice to see you too,” The woman in front of him stood confidently even in the troubling setting. Her hair had greyed with age, a bronze glow surrounded her head as the sunset reflected against the short, curly strands. She wore a serious face, her joking nature overshadowed by the perils of the evening. 

“Are you planning on barging into a situation that you don’t understand? Where is that brain of yours boy?” She looked down at the small girl at Donghyuck’s side, then looked back up at the boy in front of her, “Are you trying to put me in my grave early? I know you’re curious but Christmas, you’re something else!”

“Nonna, I just want to see what’s going on. I’m not going to do anything,” Donghyuck whined, straightening up to level with her. 

The woman huffed, “Really, Sunshine? You’re going to lie to an old lady like me? Where’s your chivalry. I know I taught you better,” Donghyuck knew he was lying, if there was a way he could help he would, and she knew it too. He always pretended to be aloof, to not care, but everyone and their mother knew Lee Donghyuck was a sweet soul. They stared at each other for a moment, always playing this little game, she stalled for time, he would promise not to get involved. 

“Yes ma’am, you’ve told me the same thing for almost eight years now,” Donghyuck sighed, eyes pulling back to the crowd that was getting louder with each passing second.

“Don’t sass me, boy, I may be getting into my later years but I can still knock you on that sorry behind.” Donghyuck snorted in response, the 4’11 lady in front of him holding her hands on her hips with challenging eyes.

“Fine. Go ahead and get into your trouble, but come back in one piece, lord knows I can’t do all the weaving alone, not that you do much anyway.” Donghyuck smiled, eyes turning into crescents in the yolky sun. He reached out towards her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. When he pulled back, her eyes had softened and exhaustion had begun to crawl into her features. He made a note to remind her of her age and what stress does to someone like that later. 

A small hand tugged at his shirt, reminding him of her presence. Lucia smiled up at him, freckles dotting constellations on her cheeks. A burst of fondness tore through the fear that lingered in his chest. “Lucia, you’ll be a good girl and go back to the shop with Nonna right?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically at him, happy with the attention she was getting, “Thank you Bug. I’ll come see you later tonight, okay?” He brushed some of the stray strands of her hair behind her ear, patting her cheek lovingly. She had been like a sister to him ever since Nonna had brought her in with them five years ago. Donghyuck saw himself in the girl, eyes so naive and curious about the world around her. They were similar in their beginnings as well as in their passions, but Donghyuck had lived longer and been introduced to some of the cruelties of the world. He wanted to protect her from famine, pestilence, and anger. 

“Get out of here. Please,” Donghyuck begged as the woman held his gaze with challenging eyes, “Promise. Go before things get too bad. Try and call the cops.” 

She watched Donghyuck for a second, eyes searching his face for something he couldn’t recognize. Wordlessly, she nodded, bringing up a hand to pat Donghyuck’s cheek one last time. She grabbed Lucia’s hand, smiling down at the young girl whose eyes traced the commotion, drinking in the fear and anxiety that permeated around her. The two pushed back through the crowd, quickly disappearing from Donghyuck’s sight. 

He turned his back on the duo, attention now back on the angry mass in front of him. He’d see them later, kiss and hug them goodnight, but right now he needed to help calm the situation down, no matter what it was. Donghyuck knew it really wasn’t any of his business, but he didn’t want the security he’d built for himself here to dissipate overnight. He continued his trek, vexed limbs and eyes burning him in the heat of the emotionally charged evening. 

“You fucker, you can’t jus’ come in here an’ say we owe you money! You’re lucky I don’t blow your head off right ‘ere.”

“I’d like to see you try, kid.”

“Who the hell do you think you are, comin’ in here and tryna’ run it like it’s your own?” A man, six feet in height and bulked with what Donghyuck could only assume was muscle, stepped into the face of a shorter, but built man. Donghyuck recognized the taller man as one of the stall owners, Felice. His face was red with rage, spit flew from his mouth as it moved faster than his thoughts, “You can’t come here and claim to own us! We don’t owe you shit and you can take that back to your boss. Tell ‘em to stuff it while you’re at it.”

“How about you swallow some bullets first, then we can talk, huh kid? All your scruff seemed to like the warning rounds, I thought you were gonna piss yourself,” Donghyuck had seen movies and pictures of guns before, but hadn’t physically seen one until then, the sleek silver revolver gleamed like a gem in the darkening sky. The shorter man held it, inches away from Felice’s mousy brown hair, finger already holding onto the trigger with the intention to pull. The gravel in his voice proved his statement a promise, a foreseeable future if challenged again. 

Donghyuck stepped up, having heard the later bulk of the argument stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on the gunman’s arm, not a foot from the weapon in his hand. He didn’t care so much about Felice as he did what would happen to his peace if that trigger was pulled, “Sir, why don’t you put that down and we can be civil?” 

The man’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Donghyuck’s actions. Donghyuck, arm dangerously close to a bullet hole, winced as he realized the situation he’d thoughtlessly put himself in. He’d make it work, it was too late; it was best not to show the fear that was making his arm tremble. The man huffed something between a chuckle at Donghyuck’s stupidity and a gasp of absolute disbelief. He looked back at Felice, gun not wavering, finger tensing against the trigger, “Well look at the balls on this one. He your son or something?” 

Felice cursed, eyebrows flicking together in frustration, “As if one of my kids would be dumb enough to touch one of you 127 bitches with a ten-foot pole. Nah, he’s just a nosy kid who can’t mind his own damn business, ain’t that right Hyuck?” Felice looked at Donghyuck, eyes shining with a glistening ‘we will talk later dumbass’ transcribed within them. Donghyuck flashed the two men a sheepish grin, removing his hand from the mobster’s arm, stepping back a few feet. 

“Like I said, I don’t know which one of these fools owes you money, but they ain’t dumb enough to stick around. Go chase ‘em like the little bitch you are; fetch for your master.” Felice pulled something from his pocket, a silver glimmer caught Donghyuck’s eye. Before he could fully remove the reflective item there was a loud bang, a thud, and screams. Donghyuck flinched as something warm and wet pelted his torso and splattered onto his face. 

Time seemed to escape him as he looked helplessly to his left. Felice, who had been cursing and livid not seconds ago lay on emerald grass, the top section of his head, just above his right eye, missing. Blood and gore splattered onto the tree that was behind him, painting the bark with crimson. Donghyuck held his breath, the shock and panic that welled deep within his chest became a lump in his throat. 

Donghyuck brought a hand to his cheek, brushing what was dripping down it with the soft skin. He held it out in front of him, looking at the smear of scarlet that painted his tanned hand in a daze. His gaze roamed down to the wet stains on his chest, the faded navy t-shirt he’d found at a shop for cheap was stained with the life of another man. Donghyuck pushed his finger against one of the spots on his stomach, slowly rubbing against it in a futile attempt to remove the mark. A dry sob broke from his throat as the liquid smeared and dried, forever marking him with his actions. He’d gotten a man killed, he was dead, it was his fault. 

Rapid shots echoed through the slum, rattling off four rounds a second. Donghyuck withdrew his gaze from the blood on his shirt, forcing his eyes to remain free of sorrow and guilt. There was nothing he could do for Felice anymore. Men surrounded the short man who was caressing his gun in an almost loving manner, praising it for another job well done. The crowd was stunned into silence, the continuous exploding of bullets ricocheted into their ears, turning them mute in fearful curiosity and genuine terror. 

“Now that we have your attention and the scum out of the way, I’d like to thank you in advance for your cooperation. Sadly, I know some of you think you're invincible and have the guts to match,” The man's eyes fell onto Donghyuck, a smirk pulling onto his lips making Donghyuck’s skin crawl, “but we need to solve that problem before it gets you into any more trouble.”

The man began to pace around in front of the crowd, an army of armed men in shoddy suits stood behind him watching the crowd with hungry eyes. “Now, despite what I’m sure has been beaten into your ears, the 127 family is full of reasonable people, myself being one of them. I could just shoot every single one of you, one by one, or if I preferred it, all at once. However, I am a reasonable man, and why do so much extra work when I can just use one example and have you fall to your knees in front of me?” The crowd filled with whispers, and Donghyuck’s eyes widened, the hands at his sides clenching crescents into his palms. He held his ground, not giving the man the satisfaction of seeing the fear that’d settled into his chest.

The man stopped pacing in the middle of the group, whistling loudly as if calling to a dog for supper time. Immediately, the men behind him fired off another magazine of ammunition. Donghyuck covered his ears, and curled slightly in on himself, flinching at the incessant screaming of metal. The crowd trembled, falling quickly into a deafening noise of its own, silence. 

“Do not interrupt me,” Everyone remained still, drenched in complete quiet. The man stepped forward, his arms out wide as if he were surveying the land, trying to take it all in. A wave of August air blew through them, ruffling the short man's pitch hair into a messy remnant of itself. Donghyuck thought that within that moment he had seen the personification of all of the seven deadly sins combined. The man radiated wrath and a lusting for blood, his pride damaged by Donghyuck's actions, envious of any wealth sequestered by others, his unquenchable greed and gluttonous tendencies flashing heavily as he watched the people shake and wail in fear around him. He had a slowness about him as if he enjoyed extending others’ suffering for his own game, sloth. 

“Alright, any volunteers?” Everything was still, the wind willed the grass to halt its dance within the breeze. No birds dared sing, no child dared cry, all was completely still. Donghyuck felt a fear he’d never felt before, the fear of nothing.

“Nobody wants to play the hero? Well, I gotta whack someone, not everyone gets a pass. What about you, you look like you’ve got somethin’ to prove,” The man stepped up in front of a man in his mid-twenties, baby blue eyes shone with fear as he frantically shook his head.

“No. No sir, I don’t”

“Ah, well, I’ll just have to pick someone else then won’t I?” Donghyuck’s arms shook, tensing his arms as much as possible to stop from lashing or calling out when the short man took the butt of his gun and hit the young man with a face so proud and entertained that Donghyuck wanted to vomit. He was angry, livid, he wanted to make this sick man stop, but deep down he knew he’d just make it worse for everyone else around him. He held his ground, face as stoic and passive as he could make it.

The man scanned the crowd, his eyes seeming to lose interest in whatever game he was playing with each second that flew past. “Well since all of these men seem to be babbling cowards, how about the ladies, hm?” He grinned, lips curving into a cannibalistic smirk. 

He sauntered around, whistling a low tune that sounded familiar to Donghyuck, but he couldn’t quite place it. The black-haired man stepped threateningly, retracing his path as he walked. He reached over in front of a slender woman with a small boy at her side. The man grabbed her skirt with a calloused hand, flicking his wrist so the tool and lace fabric launched to the side, exposing part of the woman's upper legs. 

His crew, who stood hauntingly behind the cowering crowd, whistled at the woman as she tried her hardest to stay still in a flustered fear. Donghyuck growled, drops of crimson collecting under his nails where they pierced his fleshy palms. Rage pounded in his chest, reaching up to his throat, getting caught there as his fear for those around him held it down. He knew if he were to speak or argue or call out he’d only get everyone killed. 

“Sir,” A husky voice called from the back. The short man’s pacing stopped as he looked in the direction he was called from. Whispers erupted within the sea of bystanders, concern expressed on their faces, though some had not removed their eyes from Felice or the knife that’d fallen few feet to Donghyuck's left. A younger man, his pale skin glowing against the golden hue of the sun, pushed along one of the older paths that lead to the small shelters where he and the others had stayed. Donghyuck looked toward the newcomer, somewhere in his gut he knew by the way the boy had respectfully called out to the man that there was no cause for hope, and yet it still crawled into his mind, blanketing his rational sense. 

“Minjun, you better have either gold or booze to be interruptin’ me right now,” The teen, Minjun, looked at the short man, his eyes hard and sure, his jaw was set and clenched. He approached the man, pulling something behind him. Donghyuck raised his chin as high as he could, trying to see over the people to his right, finding nothing but the heads of frightened and tearful men and women.

“I swear to god kid if you don’t stop,” Minjun’s deep voice carried over the crowd, hushing everything but what sounded like the sobs of a child, “Sir, I found a hag and a kid who thought they could get outta dodge.” The crowd had faltered into an unsettling silence as familiar cries picked up, a light breeze carrying them into Donghyuck's ears. 

His breath caught in his throat as his stomach dropped to his feet. He knew those cries, he’d heard them for the past five years. Oh had he heard those cries, from the months she spent latching her teeth onto anything she could fit into her mouth in agony, to the painful two hours he spent hunting for her stuffed rabbit while she wailed in his ear last week. Donghyuck ran forward, breaking from the front of the crowd and into the space where the short man had been treading moments ago. 

“Lucia!” A scream broke through his throat as he tried to approach the crying girl who was trying her best to fight off Minjun who was dragging her by the arm. Donghyuck felt panic bubbling in his chest.

_ How did she get here and where is Nonna? _

The second he’d moved his feet, a dozen guns all pointed in his direction, almost instinctively. Donghyuck stopped, no longer hiding the disdain he’d felt; he didn’t care, his little sister was here, being dragged through the dirt in the arms of some kind of criminal with the intent to kill. A new fire burned in Donghyuck’s heart, the desire to protect was set ablaze, fear forgotten, hatred building, consuming all doubt. 

Lucia had come into his view, her eyes and cheeks a puffed scarlet glistening with wetness. Upon hearing his cry, her head whipped to the side, honey eyes meeting his own, a whimper leaving her throat. Minjun pulled Lucia back, making her stumble forward, bare knees catching her against the gravel trail. She cried out, eyes making their way back to Donghyuck, “Duckie, Duckie, Duckie” she repeated it like the word itself would save her, could turn back the clock. Donghyuck felt his heart break as he noticed the splatter of red that contrasted against her soft salmon dress. 

_ Where’s Nonna? _

Tears welled up in his eyes as the black-haired man in front of him let out a low whistle, “Ah, and who is this cutie?” the man turned to look at Donghyuck who was being held in place only by the guarantee of death that threatened him if he were to move. Donghyuck’s eyes stung, his breathing turning into shallow huffs as he unconsciously reached slightly toward Lucia.

“Do you know her, Kid? She your sister?” Donghyuck inhaled sharply as Minjun continued to pull Lucia towards the man. 

“Oh was I right? Isn’t that cute? C’mon over here kid, comfort your sister, be her hero,” Donghyuck’s feet moved on their own, barely acknowledging the way the man smiled as he ran past. The sky had turned dark, the sun leaving only traces of dark lavender behind to prove its existence, the stars watched them from above with pity.

Donghyuck crouched in front of Lucia, ignoring the tinge pain that shot up his legs as his knees hit the gravel. He instantly held the girl's cheek, his thumb rubbing the soft skin under her left eye. 

“Duckie, th-they hu-rt Nonna,” The girl whispered to him, eyes slowly turning to meet his. She seemed to stumble for a second before repeating herself, each time a little louder and more frantic, “They hurt Nonna. They hurt Nonna!” 

“Shhh Bug, it’ll all be okay. We’ll help her, okay? Nonna will be fine.” He brushed her hair behind her ear, hands trembling as he felt the warm wetness behind it, she was hurt. He pulled her into his arms as she shuddered, letting out the most sorrow-filled cries he’d ever heard, “You’re all right baby, it’s okay.” 

Lucia was harshly pulled from behind by the skirt of her dress; Donghyuck hadn’t been holding on tight enough to keep her in his grasp, to keep her safe. They both cried out, their little bubble suddenly invaded. “Alright. That’s enough. I’m getting bored hearing all of your crap.” 

Donghyuck looked up from where he knelt, the little bit of light that was left from the day illuminated the icy blue eyes of the raven-haired man in front of him, the eyes of the man who was holding Lucia. Donghyuck swallowed heavily, eyes wide as he looked at the man not two feet from him, who peered down from above. 

“You know Kid, nobody likes a hero, but everyone loves a martyr. I’ll admit, you’ve got guts, it’s too bad you ended up here today, hm? You’d fit right in with 127,” The man smiled at him, eyes slightly crinkled at the edges as if he was actually enjoying the situation, “But, I gotta show you what happens when you play the hero. Let me ask you this, are you enough of a hero to take a bullet for a helpless little girl?”

The sterling silver of the man's gun contrasted with the caramel brown of Lucia's hair as it laid flushed against it. He’d pushed Lucia to the ground, to her knees, between him and Donghyuck. The gun pressed harder into the back of her head as she cried louder, her sobs bobbing her shoulders up and down dangerously. 

“Wha-what are you doing?” Donghyuck asked, his voice trembling as he looked into the eyes of the man with the gun. Donghyuck felt helpless, powerless, desperate, he needed to help her, but one wrong move and Lucia would be dead. The crowd behind him began to whisper, deciding among themselves if Lucia or Donghyuck seemed more worthy of a sacrifice. 

“I asked you a question little hero, would you take a bullet for this girl.” Donghyuck shuddered at the thought but didn’t hesitate.

“Yes! Yes! Let her go, please. Just let her go and you can shoot me or whatever the hell you wanna do,” Donghyuck cried, the wetness becoming too much to hold in his eyes as the first fearful tears began to fall down his cheeks. 

The raven-haired man smiled at Donghyuck, the gun in his hand not wavering at all, “Well that’s mighty brave of you kid,” He looked down at Lucia, smile turning into a smirk, “Listen, kid, your brother is gonna save you, ain’t that great?” Lucia just cried harder. 

“Yes, yes please! Just let her go. I’ll do it, I’ll do anything,” Donghyuck cried, he reached towards Lucia, his fingers entangling into her shaking ones. Donghyuck smiled softly at Lucia, relief flooding his chest. Lucia would be okay, she’d grow up and be happy, she’d be okay, she’d get out of this dump. That’s all that mattered to Donghyuck, he’d never had much, but he’d always had her.

The man sighed, seemingly weighing the options before looking back at Donghyuck with gleaming eyes, and somewhere in the back of his head, Donghyuck knew that everything was about to change, “What a sweet brother willing to die for his baby sister. You know kid, I really hate to be the one to tell you, but heroes, they don’t always win in the end.”

A gunshot sounded.

Donghyuck flinched at the sudden noise that rang through the pitch night. He felt a slight weight drop into his lap, he didn’t look, he couldn’t. 

The world blurred around him, his eyes staring blankly in front of him at the man’s knees. His ears rang, blocking out the horrified screams of the townsfolk. What happened? Where did Lucia go? He was still holding her hand, where’d she go? She wasn’t in front of him anymore. Donghyuck knit his eyebrows in confusion as he noticed wetness against his legs. Since when was that there? Why was it warm?

Donghyuck looked down at his lap

_ Oh _ .

She was there, head turned to the side, eyes emptily staring to the right. Her hair stained red. Why was her hair red? What was she looking at? Why wasn’t she blinking? Why wasn’t she moving?

_ Oh _ .

Realization hit Donghyuck’s hazy mind suddenly and all at once. She was dead. His little sister was dead in his lap. 

He frantically grabbed at the girl's hair, trying to feel any remnant of her life, but instead only felt it slide through and wet his fingers. He let out a choked sob, the only sound he could hear over the thundering of his heart. 

_ Lucia. Lucia. Lucia. _

Donghyuck let out a cry, then another, then another. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, the trails that ran over the crimson remnants of Felice and Lucia, turned pale pink, dripping another shade of red onto his stained shirt. He couldn’t breathe. 

He remembered the time Lucia first said his name, “Yuckie” in a proud tone and how he’d praised her for hours. He remembered the time she lost her first tooth and woke him up bursting with excitement because the Tooth Fairy had visited her. He remembered when they danced together as their Nonna skillfully played some random cassette she’d found inside a mangled radio that somehow still worked. 

He couldn’t breathe.

A hand harshly grabbed the front of Donghyuck’s shirt pulling him to his feet, Lucia’s corpse limply rolling to the side, Donghyuck followed it blankly with his eyes. The hand holding his shirt was pushing and pulling him violently, but he couldn’t remove his eyes from the little girl at his feet, his Bug. 

A sharp slap to his cheek knocked him back to the ground and out of his head. The crowd to his left was quiet, but sobs of mothers and children could be heard, whispers and tears of men softly followed. The silhouettes of the men canvassed the background, barely visible in the dim moonlight. 

“You listen to me when I talk to you.” Donghyuck’s eyes turned to his assailant, meeting those of the man who’d shot Lucia. He killed her. This was the man who killed her. The man stood in front of Donghyuck, eyes bright and filled with amusement. He enjoyed this. He was enjoying watching him weep. Donghyuck grit his teeth together, grinding them harshly as his face contorted.

Donghyuck dug his hands into the dirt and gravel at his sides, his right one finding a jagged rock. His knees burned as old pieces of rock and debris buried themselves into their soft flesh. He didn’t care about the pain, hissing silently through his nose he looked up at the figure in front of him. This man was enjoying it. He was having fun. He killed Lucia. He hurt Nonna. Rage pounded through his blood giving him more of a high than adrenaline ever could. His family was gone and their killer was grinning happily, waiting for Donghyuck to make the next move. 

Donghyuck got to his feet, his bangs casting a dark shadow over his face. A gust of temperate wind blasted against Donghyuck’s still figure; the breeze held the sultry scent of the sea, normally a comforting fragrance that Donghyuck noticed seemed to do the opposite. The salty air reminded him of them, the one’s who’d been happy in his palms not an hour ago, and were now scattered and broken apart like the sand of a listless shore. 

Donghyuck's body felt heavy, a separate entity moving completely on its own. The only remnants of his sanity fell with his tears that dripped down one by one into the scarlet puddle at his feet. His thoughts were slow and hazy, hatred impeding any rational thought he may have had. The man had to pay.

Donghyuck stepped forward, almost stumbling at first, then lunging at the man. Donghyuck may have been small, but years of fighting and climbing the ancient oak trees that littered the outside of the slums made him anything but weak. 

“You bastard! What did you do? What did you do?” Donghyuck barely recognized the angry scream that left his throat as his own. The only thing that broke him out of his rage came when the rock in his right hand met the short man’s cheek, slicing both it and Donghyuck’s hand clean open. The pain cleared his vision and thoughts, clearing the haze of sorrow that had clouded him moments before. 

Donghyuck was immediately pulled back by two men, their arms locking his back. He heard the clicking of at least a dozen guns’ hammers being pulled down, the weapon ready to fire on cue. Donghyuck kicked out against the men, trying to break from the men who were bruising his forearms. 

“You little bitch,” a voice ground, sounding to Donghyuck like nails scraping against a chalkboard. Donghyuck ceased his wild kicking in favor of harshly jerking his shoulders and staring at the fuming man in front of him. Donghyuck smiled as he watched the man wipe at the blood that spilled down his cheek with the back of his hand. Donghyuck had managed to cut the man from the apple of his cheek down to the corner of his lips in a crooked and jagged shape. A surge of victory filled Donghyuck’s chest as he realized that it would indeed leave a nasty scar. 

“You think this is funny, little hero?” Donghyuck met the man’s eyes definitely, forcing himself not to look down at Lucia. He kept a brave face knowing that was the best he could do at the moment. He’d be strong right now, for no one but himself, for what he had left. 

The man stepped forward, his hand curling into a fist. He stood in front of Donghyuck for a moment, a crooked smile painting his lips before his fist connected with Donghyuck’s jaw. The men that had been holding Donghyuck released him with a small shove as he tried to regain his footing. The punch had definitely bruised his jaw, his teeth catching against the fleshy inside of his mouth, drawing blood. 

Donghyuck spit the coppery substance that filled his mouth to the side, refusing to let out the whimper that threatened to escape his lips. He steeled his jaw, teeth grinding in pain. He brought a bruised arm up to his lips, brushing away the blood that began to slip through them. Regaining his ground, Donghyuck turned his head back to the man, honey eyes burning in the darkness of the night. 

The man pounded his fist against Donghyuck’s skull again, this time hard enough to knock him to the ground. He laughed as Donghyuck tried to stand, shaking the static from his eyes as he moved. Before he could get to his feet, the heel of a polished shoe pushed into his ribs, knocking him onto his back with an undignified thud. The man didn’t stop the assault there, he continued to step and pound Donghyuck, kicking him, punching him, attacking his body relentlessly. 

_ It hurts. _

The young man curled into himself slightly, the pain too much for his pride. Each impact sent him reeling, his head jarring against the ground as he struggled to protect his torso. Blood fell through his lips, coughs and gasps blurring his vision as he struggled to breathe choking on the salty air. 

_ I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Stop. Please stop. _

When the assault finally ceased, Donghyuck didn’t dare to move. His ribs felt like they’d been ground into a fine powder, his head throbbed each time his heart roared in his ears. Donghyuck fought to hold his eyes open, trying to get the ringing in his ears to stop. 

He watched, dazed, as the man walked back towards the crowd, yelling something that Donghyuck couldn’t understand, everything sounded like it was underwater. He furrowed his brow, begging to any deity that lived in the starry sky that they’d make it. They had to make it.

The man made some kind of movement, holding up one hand, his index finger sticking up. He waved it in a circular motion, twirling it in the air a few times before he let his arm limply fall to his side. Donghyuck watched in slow motion as sudden sparks grew in the dark, popping off one by one, but so quickly. Dazed, he tried to raise his head when he heard the beginnings of what he thought to be screams. 

People began to fall to the ground, women and children first, then the men. They were dying. The echoes of bullets became louder and louder until Donghyuck could finally move again, the ringing replaced with screams. 

Donghyuck screamed, his throat clenched tightly as new tears fell from his eyes; the sound was washed away by the rapid spray of gunfire. He watched in horror as the little ones who tried to run away were given no mercy and fired upon just like the rest. 

Donghyuck pushed himself to his knees, his body screaming in protest. A hand grabbed his hair sharply, yanking his head back, forcing his eyes to meet with a burning sapphire. “And where do you think you’re going? You haven’t even seen the best part yet!”

“Fuck you!” Donghyuck growled at the crouching man. The man just seemed to pull at his hair harder in response.

“Don’t be like that kid. I’m about to show you something amazing,” The man jostled Donghyuck’s head a bit before reaching in his silk pocket, pulling something out. It was some kind of metal ball, about the size of a tin can. He held it in front of Donghyuck’s face, shaking it excitedly and making something inside bounce around, a rattling sound echoed within it. A small pin stuck out of the top of the container. 

“This baby is something I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” the man withdrew his eyes from the object in his hand to meet Donghyuck’s, smiling, “Let’s see how well it works.” The man dropped Donghyuck’s head, pulling out the pin at the top, holding down the clip. He spared Donghyuck one last glance; he threw it as hard as he could, as far as he could. Why? What was the point?

Suddenly a wall of fire erupted where the object had landed, knocking a man off his feet and into the flames. Small pieces of shrapnel, flew for yards, piercing anything it could reach. Another deafening sound pierced the air, flames erupting from the inside of a house, where one of the objects had broken through a window. Grenades, Donghyuck had realized.

The man laughed with glee, his eyes crinkling and turning into crescents resembling the moon that watched them pitifully from above. Silent tears fell from Donghyuck’s eyes as he watched huts and people around him burn and be pierced with ease; it was effortless, it was easy to do. It made him sick. 

The explosions seemed to replace the gunfire entirely, it was like a child on Christmas who’d gotten a new toy, their old ones abandoned for a more efficient one. Donghyuck could only sit and watch for what felt like hours in the company of a murderer until the area fell into complete silence. 

“Sir, one of the Capo’s and his crew have arrived,” a kid approached them, with sandy eyes and hair. He stood no older than sixteen, a gun happily in his hands. 

“Shit,” the man swore looking away from where the flames licked the sky. “Alright. Men! It’s time to move out, you’ve had your fun!”

Donghyuck looked up at him in confusion, were they just going to leave? What was happening now? The man sensing Donghyuck’s morbid curiosity looked back over at him getting to his feet, brushing off the dirt from his trousers. The man grinned down at him, “It was nice meeting you, little hero. I’ll see you in hell.” 

The short man with the raven hair and blue eyes was the last thing he saw before he felt a bullet pierce his abdomen, and his blood spill out under him, into the soil. His eyes fell closed shortly after.


	2. 1, 2, 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I actually managed to bang out another 7.5K chapter! Hopefully, I'm able to keep this pace for writing. Thank you to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter or even read it! Your feedback is much appreciated!
> 
> Trigger Warning: Panic Attacks
> 
> Enjoy!

It was the pain that woke him up before anything else could. Lightning crackled up his spine, drawing a pained whine from between Donghyuck’s bruised lips. His eyes were hard to open, his whole face, stiff and bruised, protested against every twitch and pull. He let out a choked gasp as he tried to roll onto his side, ribs sore from the way gravity spared them no mercy. 

“Stop moving,” The voice was heavy against his ears. Donghyuck panicked, realizing he wasn’t alone, “You’ll tear yourself open again.”

Fear flooded Donghyuck’s senses as he stilled, clearing his mind just enough for memory to reshape within his thoughts. Lucia burned at the forefront.

His eyes watered as his chest tightened and heaved, from pain or from sorrow, it was anyone's guess. Where was he? What had happened after he passed out? Donghyuck took in the way his body was encapsulated in warmth, plush silk of a quality he’d never felt before, had been draped around him; his head pillowed against something equally as lush. He kept his eyes closed, maybe the man would think he was still asleep. 

Pain seeped back into his senses making his limbs twitch on their own volition. Where was he? Had the man with the blue eyes taken Donghyuck as his personal play toy? Had he saved him from the flames to entertain him more? No, the voice was different, wasn’t it? Then who was watching him?

He’d been in the fire right? He’d been left to burn. He’d been burning.

He gasped, eyes shooting open in a blurred panic. He was back in the flames, the ceiling above him was a glossy white, the single silver armed light fixture hanging above him radiated heat. He was burning, his limbs felt as though they’d been skinned and scratched into piles of tissue and bone. He needed help! Donghyuck wheezed, unable to breathe as his chest contorted in pain.

A solid palm held down Donghyuck’s chest, pushing against him. He hadn’t realized he’d been trying to sit up until the palm erupted flames into his lungs. Donghyuck screamed, tears spilling from his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, not comprehending what was truly in front of him.

The man let out a curse, pulling his hand back immediately. Donghyuck wished the man would save him, extinguish the flames that crawled up his limbs, but he knew in the back of his mind that he was asking for too much. 

He heard a commotion to his left, a door open and shut, rushed footsteps parading to his side. He didn’t care, he was  _ burning _ . How long until he could be finished until he could cease? He craved the nothingness that he’d fought so hard to escape for years. He was strong, but he wasn’t strong enough for this.

“-eil, he just started screaming I-” Donghyuck couldn’t make out what the voice was saying over the deafening sound of his own sobbing. The voice felt much softer within his ears than it had moments ago, perhaps its owner was afraid of the flames too.

“Hold him,” A new voice called as a hand wrapped around Donghyuck’s left wrist. It happened fast, too fast for him to understand. There was a person hovering above him, holding his wrists at either side of his head, their legs created a cage around his hips. Donghyuck kicked out, terrified that he was being forced to stay within the flames. 

“Fuck, he’s stronger than he looks. Hurry up!” Donghyuck’s vision blacked out for a second, his abdomen screaming at him for moving so frantically. The darkness quickly receded, leaving behind a clearness he hadn’t seen since he watched his peers be gunned down by strangers. 

He was met with two clear eyes, a brown so deep Donghyuck could have easily drowned within their depths. The man's face creased, cheeks tensing as his eyebrows furrowed together, a sign of his struggle to keep Donghyuck from moving. Donghyuck gasped for air, tears falling from the corners of his eyes and into his chestnut hair. He couldn’t breathe. 

The flames had receded, everything had receded, everything but those eyes that stared down at him with something that Donghyuck couldn’t decipher swimming within them. The eyes were incredibly honest, easy to read. He could tell that their owner was scared, concerned. Was he scared for Donghyuck? Why? There was also a gentleness there, something softer, hidden so far under the waves that he wondered he could feel it drowning. 

He felt his arm straighten, not fighting against the movement as he forced himself to breathe. He inhaled every time the man above him blinked, exhaled every time he twitched. Something stabbed into his arm and he tensed under the man again, trying to rip his it away from whatever was causing him harm. He felt betrayed briefly, he’d allowed himself to feel a small amount of comfort in the man’s eyes, but the facade was instantly broken as he was hurt again. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” The voice was firm but held an unexpected gentleness. The man's grasp on Donghyuck’s wrists tightened as he began to shake under him once more. The eyes searched Donghyuk’s face up and down, alarm evident in the way they widened. 

Suddenly, it was as though a wave had crashed over Donghyuck, washed every sensation and ache from his being. He felt his body loosen on its own, chest slowing the rate at which it moved up and down, finding an even pace to situate itself within. The room around him fell into a quiet cacophony of heavy breathing and raindrops pounding on what he assumed to be a window to his right. He breathed deeply, the smell of pine and sandalwood invading his senses. It made his body feel warm.

“You can let go now. He’ll be out in a few seconds,” The weight on top of Donghyuck was replaced by a different kind of heaviness, one that muddies the senses and exhausts the mind. Vaguely, he felt a hand give one last comforting squeeze to his wrist before letting go entirely. 

“What happened?”

“I don’t know he just-” 

Everything tapered off and Donghyuck felt like he was floating. He watched the light fixture above him with a hazy curiosity, noting how it looked like a metallic octopus, eight arms in total. The heaviness in his body extended up into his neck, crawling sluggishly into his cheeks and eyes. He felt his eyes close, finding solace in the nothingness that surrounded him. The two voices to his left wove together into a symphony of syllables he was too tired to understand. He felt comforted by those voices, there was something about them that calmed him even more. Perhaps it was because they’d helped him, but he’d never really know. He didn’t care to as unconsciousness overtook him, extinguishing the last smoldering bits of fear from within him. 

~

“Go fish.”

“Go screw yourself.”

Donghyuck opened his eyes feeling somewhat groggy and stiff. He was in the same room as before, much to his horror and relief. The grey walls around him seemed to be smooth linoleum, perfect within every inch of its expanse. The room was nothing like he’d ever seen before; well, that’s not true, he’d seen pictures like this in magazines that floated around the ratty abandoned apartment that he, Nonna, and Lucia had made their home. His heart ached for a moment, making him inhale deeply through his nose. He needed to know what was going on before he allowed himself to mourn. If he was in danger, he’d deal with that first. 

The bedroom was what he’d learned was called ‘modern’, sleek, silver silk curtains lined the windows, the walls were minimally decorated with monotonous tones of black and white. He was baffled by the way the room could have been painted with actual dollar bills, and still not look as expensive as that. 

His eyes wandered to the commotion at the foot of his bed, curious as to why no one had said anything to him thus far. Donghyuck felt like he’d been punched in the gut when he realized how big the room truly was. How rich were these people?

His eyes flickered along the set of occupied metal stools which circled a short mahogany table in the center. There were five boys in total, ranging in stature and cheerfulness. They seemed focused on something, speaking amongst themselves in a joking manner. A loud laugh broke Donghyuck out of his reverie.

“Jeno, you dumbass, we can see your cards!” An exasperated sigh came from one of them, his silver hair matching a little too well with the room's decor. The boy who Donghyuck assumed to be Jeno sent the silver-haired one a sheepish grin, sitting up straight and reshuffling his cards. Donghyuck sat up fully, blankets pooling around his waist as he did. He ignored the stinging in his stomach and the ache in his ribs in favor of the curiosity that stemmed from the boys’ seeming lack of interest in him. 

None of them looked at him as he moved, seemingly too involved in their game to care. Donghyuck watched as the one who wore glasses too big for his head, slapped the green-haired boy's arm, leaving his back facing Donghyuck even as the shuffling of blankets echoed in the room.

“Are you gonna go or not?”

The green-haired boy rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before scanning through his cards once more. His face lit up with mischief as he turned to face one of the other boys, “Jeno hyung, do you have any eights?”

“You know I do, stop looking so proud of yourself,” The green-haired boy grinned, holding out a hand to receive a pair of what Donghyuck assumed to have been eights. 

He squinted in annoyance, perplexed. The boys hadn’t whipped a gun out on him yet, he took that as a good sign. Apparently, he wasn’t in any immediate danger, that or they’re all sadists.

“Are you guys seriously playing Go Fish right now?” Donghyuck's voice sounded foreign to his own ears, hoarse and scratchy. He scooted closer so that he was an arm's length away from the boy who’s back remained facing him. 

One of them, the one with the fluffiest pink hair Donghyuck had ever seen, looked up at him and offered him a small smile, mirth playing in his eyes, “Well, we were gonna play poker, but the kids don’t know how to, so,” he trailed off, putting a hand on the thigh of the silver-haired boy sitting next to him. 

Donghyuck couldn’t fight the confusion that overtook his thoughts, “The kids?”

“The two who look about six weeks out of the womb,” The silver-haired boy didn’t look up at him, instead, he tried to peer over the kid with glasses’ shoulder, eyeing the cards in his hand. None of the boys looked particularly young to Donghyuck, in fact, they all looked about his age. He inhaled deeply, feeling slightly less on edge. 

He didn’t understand what was going on, nor the dynamic between the five in front of him. He rubbed at his eyes, looking down at the cards within the boys' hands, “He’s got two threes, an ace, and a seven.”

The boy whipped around, his round glasses slipping down to lay on the bridge of his nose. He let out a whine of outrage, pulling the cards up to his chest. He had mousey features, a softer and more delicate feel to him. Donghyuck tried his best not to coo at the way his cheeks puffed out as he huffed. 

The other four boys found Donghyuck’s actions to be hilarious, laughter bubbling up between them with ease. He didn’t know how to feel, he didn’t know where he was or who he was with. He looked down at his lap, suddenly very aware of the five strangers who could easily take him down without much of a fight. They didn’t seem like they’d hurt him, but neither did that sultry summer breeze that wafted over him as he bled out on the gravel. 

The one with the dark brown hair, Jeno, he remembered, seemed to notice the shift in Donghyuck’s demeanor. He climbed to his feet, clearing his throat and offering him a smile that turned his eyes into crescents. He didn’t allow his seemingly friendly nature to overshadow the fact that he could see how muscular the boy was, sleeveless t-shirt exposing the strength in his arms. Donghyuck thought the boy could probably rip him in half with two fingers.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, holding his hands out in front of his body, noticing how Donghyuck looked like he was two seconds from running.

The others hushed at the question, the remaining four sets of eyes landed on him with various levels of curiosity and concern. Donghyuck suddenly felt very trapped, cornered. “I,” He began, swallowing heavily as he scanned each of the boys in front of him for signs of hostility. 

The pink-haired boy sighed, climbing to his feet, making his way over to Donghyuck who looked at him like he’d grown three heads. The boy plopped down on his left, leaving enough room between them to be comfortable, but far too little for Donghyuck to feel safe. He offered him a smile, “Ignore Jeno, he has the social grace of a caterpillar.” 

Said boy clicked his tongue in protest, swatting at the green-haired boy who chuckled against the sleeve of his maroon hoodie. Donghyuck nodded, unsure of what else to do in that situation. 

“What’s your name?” The pink-haired boy's voice was deeper than what he would have expected to belong to someone of his stature, small under the cream jacket that hung limply off of one of his shoulders. His face, though gentle in its curves, held the dominant features of sharp eyebrows and a sculpted jaw.

“What’s yours?” Donghyuck challenged, crossing his legs under him as he turned to face the boy completely. He didn’t feel like he was in danger, he felt oddly intrigued by the boys, curious. He wanted to test the waters, to see how much he could get away with before it got him into trouble. Last time he’d done that, however, he’d gotten his family killed. The thought made him wince, body tensing as he felt sorrow drip into his veins. 

“Are you hurting?” The pink-haired boy put a hand on Donghyuck’s knee, a comforting gesture that made him jump. The pink-haired boy didn’t move if he noticed Donghyuck’s discomfort, eyes still locked in steadily with his. Concern was evident in his features, confusing Donghyuck even more. They’d kidnapped him, hadn’t they? Where was the man with the blue eyes?

_ “Nice meeting you, little hero. I’ll see you in hell.”  _ He sobered up immediately.

“Who are you?” Donghyuck demanded, voice shakier than he would’ve preferred it. 

Undeterred, the pink-haired boy gave his knee a squeeze, smile reappearing along his rosy lips, “Na Jaemin, I turned twenty last week, and I’m lactose intolerant.” 

“Star sign!” The silver-haired boy suggested from Donghyuck’s right. Jaemin rolled his eyes at the other, the fondness that crept into his features made Donghyuck’s stomach swirl nervously.

“Leo.”

“He’s the definition of a Leo,” The silver-haired boy moved to stand next to Jaemin who was huffing on the edge of the bed, “Huang Renjun, Aries, twenty,” he concluded quickly, watching Donghyuck with inquisitive eyes. Renjun was shorter than Jaemin but also wider, stronger. There was something unspoken lingering in his ebony eyes, he looked at Donghyuck with a tinge of weariness, as though exhausted by his presence. 

“He’s the one who found you when you were, you know,” The green-haired boy to his right spoke quickly, too fast for anyone to protest. He turned his head to the side to face him, confused at the implication, “Do you remember what happened?” 

The four boys groaned in annoyance, Jeno reached over and smacked the boy on the head, “Jesus Chenle, read the room!” Chenle offered a sheepish grin, bouncing his leg up and down. Donghyuck’s head bobbed back and forth between the boys, trying to understand what had been left unsaid, what had been left illegibly hanging in the air. 

They’d brought him there? Found him? He couldn’t tell who they were or what their plans were and that frustrated Donghyuck. He couldn’t tell if his life was at risk or if he’d been saved. He wanted so badly to believe in the latter, to believe that it was all over, but it wasn’t, he’d lost too much for it to be. 

“You brought me here? Why?” Donghyuck looked back at Renjun who was kicking the floor with sudden interest. Silence filtered into the room for the first time since he’d opened his eyes. 

He noted the sudden shift in demeanor with an intrigued hum. 

Jaemin tutted, shaking his head at Donghyuck, amusement in his eyes, “We’ll get to that later. We gotta finish the introductions first.” 

Donghyuck wanted very much to tell the boy that he could care less about their damn introductions, but instead, he nodded, choosing to remain quiet and glean as much information about what was happening as he could from the boys. 

“Chenle, since you’ve already made such a wonderful first impression, you go next.”

The boy got to his feet, a wide smile replacing the embarrassment that had previously painted his cheeks a rosy pink, “I’m Zhong Chenle, I’m turning nineteen in like three months.” Donghyuck nodded, Chenle must be one of the ‘kids’ Jaemin had mentioned. 

“Lee Jeno,” The next introduced. Donghyuck took in his strong facial features dizzily, trying his best to commit names and their corresponding faces to memory.

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

Jaemin groaned, dragging a frustrated hand down his cheek. He turned back to Donghyuck, face flat in annoyance, “He’s Jeno, he’s twenty, and he’s boring. Next.”

“Um,” The last boy's voice was small, unique, but not unwelcome or unpleasant. He seemed to hesitate, eyes meeting Donghyuck’s which were getting more and more exhausted by the second, “I’m Park Jisung. I’m eighteen.”

“He’s a baby!” Jaemin exclaimed happily, smiling brightly at Jisung.

“I’m not, hyung. Stop!” Jisung moved to stand next to Chenle who was laughing brightly at the others' antics. Jisung was tall, taller than any of the other boys. Remnants of baby fat still lingered in his cheeks, he was in the awkward in-between stage of adolescence and maturity. Jisung was clearly shyer than the others, stepping slightly behind Chenle, but not completely out of view. He wondered how this hodge-podge of personalities had been formed and if it was as dysfunctional as it seemed.

Jaemin turned back to him, face becoming serious, “He’s a baby.” Donghyuck couldn’t find the power within himself to do anything but nod. He looked between all of them, unsure of who to focus his attention on or who to ask questions to. It was all disorienting, the constant chatter from all sides of the room made his head throb. 

“You’re all psychotic,” Donghyuck’s savior took form in Renjun, apparently for the second time, as he pulled Jaemin away from where he’d begun to inch closer, “He just woke up, let him breathe.”

“Shouldn’t we get Taeil hyung?” Jisung asked, prying Chenle’s arms away from where they’d begun to circle his waist, “Tell him that he’s awake?”

Jeno jumped in place as though startled by the realization that nobody had left the room yet. He yanked the door behind Jaemin and Renjun open, closing it quickly. Donghyuck was left to ponder who Taeil was and why they had to get him. 

“Don’t worry, Taeil hyung is really nice, he’s been taking care of you,” Jaemin commented, swinging Renjun’s arm between them. The latter looked about ready to bite the pink boy’s head off.

“How long have I been here?” Donghyuck asked openly, not directing the question to anyone in particular. 

Some unspoken conversations seemed to take place between the boys as their eyes met. Some agreement had come to fruition in front of Donghyuck as he watched them peer at each other. He felt entirely too ignorant for his comfort.

Renjun was the one who gathered the words first, “Two weeks,” He said, eyes meeting Donghyuck’s, “It’s been two weeks since we found you in one of the bordering, um,  _ communities _ .” 

Well, that’s one way to call it. It had been a community, for a lack of a better word, but it wasn’t a neighborhood by any means. Donghyuck had heard it be called a lot of things, the slums, the fence, the cesspool. It’d been a community, sure, a community of those who didn’t fit into the extravagance of Neo City. They were the outcasts, the exterior, and they lived that way, impoverished and dirty. They survived off of the scraps that’d been left to them. 

Neo City itself was the embodiment of all things wrong in the world, in Donghyuck’s opinion. Hidden beneath its clean exterior lies a corruption so deep and so foul that it blurred the line between utopia and dystopia. Donghyuck had seen the truth, grown up in a pile of Neo City’s waste, he was aware of what many people weren’t. 

“Two weeks?” Donghyuck tested the words on his tongue, feeling to see if they’d brought any kind of truth to him. Had it really been that long? The aching in his ribs reminded him of how gravely he’d been injured. He should be grateful that he felt that good after only two weeks, but he couldn’t help but wonder why he’d been spared. 

He held his arms out in front of him, pushing up the sleeves that covered his skin, noticing the way several healing cuts and bruises lined their expanse. He was paler than he’d ever remembered seeing himself, skin once sunkissed from the hours he’d spend outside now noticeably several shades fairer. As he moved he noticed a tightness around his stomach that encircled his torso.

Pushing the blankets that swamped around him away, he noticed he was no longer dressed in his old navy t-shirt, and that it’d been replaced with a soft black hoodie and matching sweatpants. He lifted up the hem of the hoodie, eyes watching curiously as the pristine white bandages that wrapped around his torso bobbed up and down as he breathed. He looked up at Renjun and Jaemin curiously, ignoring the way that Chenle and Jisung had sat back down, scrolling through their phones. 

“You got shot,” Jaemin said with ease, unfazed by the implications of the words. He tilted his head, smiling as Donghyuck’s eyes widened in surprise, ‘What? You don’t remember?”

Oh, right. He had been shot, hadn’t he? 

“You’re such an asshole ‘min,” Renjun elbowed Jaemin in the side. Jaemin swung around, slapping Renjun’s stomach hard enough to make an echo ricochet around the room. Chenle and Jisung cheered from Donghyuck’s right. 

He really wanted to know who the hell they were.

“You’re one to talk Mr.’Communities’” 

“Well, what’re you supposed to call them?” Renjun shoved Jaemin back, making him tip over to sprawl on the bed. He rolled onto his side facing Donghyuck. Jaemin kicked Renjun’s hip making him wince and charge forward, pressing a fist into Jaemin’s stomach from above. 

Donghyuck wasn’t sure what was happening but felt like this was something that occurred often between the boys. He sighed, brushing a hand through his tangled hair, “I think that’s the most politically correct thing I’ve ever heard someone call that dump, actually.”

“See, you’re the only ass here,” Renjun sent Donghyuck a smile in acknowledgment, flicking Jaemin in the forehead as he moved to sit up. 

Jaemin scoffed, rolling his eyes. He turned to look at Donghyuck, deciding to ignore Renjun’s presence entirely. His eyes glittered, reflecting the light above them, “I’m the only one  _ with  _ an ass here.” 

Renjun groaned, throwing his hands into the air in frustration, “I actually cannot stand you.” 

Jaemin didn’t spare him a glance, pretending to whisper in a tone that was all too loud, “He’s actually secretly in love with me, but I pretend I don’t know.” Renjun screamed, outraged at the implication, and lunged onto Jaemin, pushing him back down onto the bed. Donghyuck watched helplessly as they wrestled, the two younger boys betting on who’d win. 

It was all fine and dandy until one of Renjun’s feet firmly planted itself against one of the more gnarly bruises on his ribs. He gasped, closing his eyes as pain washed over him in waves. He reached out to hold onto the metal edge of the bed frame, heavily leaning on that arm as he exhaled slowly. The two beside him had stilled entirely, climbing off of each other to stand beside the bed.

When Donghyuck reopened his eyes he was met with Jisung’s wide and concerned ones. He was kneeling on the ground in front of Donghyuck looking up at him, Chenle standing by his side, “Are you okay hy-,” He stopped himself, remembering he knew nothing about Donghyuck, not even his name, “Sir?”

“Hyung is fine,” He spoke through gritted teeth. His side throbbed as he breathed but it had begun to subside with each passing second, “For you two at least.”

He eyed the two other boys who were looking down at him with eyes full of remorse. He thought for a second that Jaemin looked like he may burst into tears, “These two idiots,” He turned, using the hand that once held the bed frame to point at where Renjun and Jaemin had backed away from him, “are my age.”

“Are you okay?” Renjun took a step forward, hand reaching out towards Donghyuck, but never truly crossing the invisible line that he’d drawn between them. 

“I’m doing pretty well for someone who was turned into a welcome mat and then shot, thanks for asking,” Donghyuck doubled over, bending forward. He wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to ease the pain with their comfort. If he hadn’t been hurting, he might have laughed at how Jisung jumped backward as he leaned in too close to him. 

“Oh my god, what are you guys doing?” Donghyuck groaned as a new voice entered the room, not bothering to look up, “Taeyong asked you to watch him not torture him!” 

“It was an accident hyung!” Chenle pleaded. Donghyuck wondered why he’d been the one to jump to their defense when, really, he’d had nothing to do with it. He decided they had some kind of brotherhood thing going on that his preoccupied mind didn’t really care about. 

“Alright, alright. Give him some space guys,” Donghyuck’s head shot up, that voice was familiar. He was met with some of the softest eyes he’s ever seen, deep mahogany that held an aura of calm within their depths. He couldn’t comprehend why he felt himself relax in the man's presence, he didn’t know him, but his eyes reminded him of his Nonna’s.

“Where are you hurting?” The man looked down at Donghyuck from where he was crouched on the bed with a welcoming smile. He was about Renjun’s height, not scrawny by any means. He wore a pale blue button-up shirt tucked into grey trousers. His coffee-brown hair was gelled back, curving into two small waves that defied gravity near the middle. The closer he got to Donghyuck the more he smelled of cinnamon. 

“I’m fine. It’s just my ribs,” Donghyuck uncrossed his arms, allowing the man to scan the clothed expanse of his torso. The man cocked his head to the side, smile dimming as he moved his eyes back up to search Donghyuck’s face. 

Realization brightened his eyes before Donghyuck could blink, “Oh! I’m sorry! I haven’t introduced myself yet,” The man scratched behind his ear looking sheepish, “I’m Taeil, Moon Taeil.”

“Hyung’s the one who’s been taking care of you.” Chenle wrapped his arms around Taeil’s waist, squeezing their bodies together. The man smiled at the contact, placing one of his hands on top of Chenle’s. Donghyuck squinted at the skinship, what kind of relationship was this?

He cleared his throat, wanting more information than what was given to him, “Are you a doctor?”

“You could say that,” Taeil stepped forward out of Chenle’s reach. He grabbed Donghyuck’s right hand, lifting his arm up gently. He moved, holding the limb in place, cupping his elbow within his other palm. Donghyuck allowed the man to touch him, not feeling in any immediate danger within the room. He watched as Taeil’s eyes trailed up and down his arm, looking at the bruises that painted his skin in various blotches. 

Taeil hummed to himself, setting his arm back down by his side slowly as to not aggravate any of his injuries. Donghyuck couldn’t remember a time he’d ever been treated so gently, “Why don’t you guys wait downstairs? We’ll be finished in a minute.”

Jaemin pouted, coming to stand next to Taeil, “Why can’t we stay hyung?”

Taeil grabbed Donghyuck’s other arm, repeating the motions, looking it up and down, “Because I need to check his stomach.”

“So?” 

Taeil lowered Donghyuck’s arm, turning to face the boys in question who watched the pair curiously. His face, although still holding that gentle smile, morphed to have an edge in it, something knowing played across his features. Donghyuck realized he may not be as safe as he’d lead himself to believe. 

“I doubt he wants you here for this,” Jaemin moved to protest, taking a step closer to the pair. Taeil cleared his throat, Jaemin stilled at the noise, “Besides, Taeyong wants everyone to be downstairs so we can all  _ talk  _ about things.” 

There was so much unsaid within that response that it made Donghyuck’s weariness return in full force. The boys, however, seemed to understand the finality in that statement, the unspoken order within those words. Jisung stood from where he’d been sitting behind Taeil, stepping towards the door quickly. 

“We’ll see you later hyung!” Donghyuck felt the pat on his thigh before he even saw the green-haired boy move in his direction. The others sent him similar sentiments, nodding and waving. Donghyuck hadn’t realized that Jeno had returned until he was walking back out of the door. 

Renjun, however, seemed displeased with the idea of leaving. He stepped over to Taeil’s side, facing the man as he’d turned back to Donghyuck, “Hyung, can I stay?”

Taeil sighed, closing his eyes, “Injunnie, I understand why you want to stay, but you need to go be with your team.” 

Well, Donghyuck sure as hell didn’t understand. He was getting tired of the way everyone seemed to tip-toe around him. He didn’t know who these people really were or why he was alive. How’d they find him? Why’d they save him? What had happened to everyone? They couldn’t all be dead right? What had happened to Nonna? How long had she been alone?

“Hey, breathe, breathe,” The hands on Donghyuck’s shoulders steadied him. His head felt fuzzy and eyes had begun to water, “Really, Renjun, we’ll be down in a minute. Go.”

And what did he mean by ‘team’? Who’s team? Team of what? Who was Taeyong? Where had they taken him? Were they gonna kill him? Torture him? 

“Kid, hey, look at me,” Donghyuck met Taeil’s bright eyes, noting the way they seemed to have become molten in the low light of the room, “Breathe with me, yeah? In and out.”

Donghyuck hadn’t noticed the way he’d begun to hyperventilate until Taeil began to count out his breaths, “One, two, three, four,” He exhaled in a steady stream, air tickling Donghyuck’s right cheek, ruffling the hair near his ear. Taeil’s breath smelled of coffee and mint. 

They sat for a moment, breathing together. Donghyuck felt himself coming down from whatever mania he’d managed to work himself into. He allowed himself to grab onto Taeil’s shirt, tugging the man closer for comfort. He rested his head on Taeil’s stomach, willing his thoughts to stop spirling and the room to stop spinning. 

As soon as he was ready, Donghyuck pulled back, cheeks flushing as he realized he’d just cuddled into a stranger, “I’m sorry,” his voice was quiet, almost inaudible. Donghyuck played with the white strings that hung from the center of his pants, looping the ends around his fingers and watching them fall back again. 

A small bubble of laughter made Donghyuck furrow his brow. Why was Taeil laughing at him?

A hand tenderly cupped Donghyuck’s left cheek, softly pushing his face up to meet Taeil’s bright eyes, “Don’t apologize,” Taeil’s thumb waved back and forth against the soft peak of Donghyuck’s cheek, “Are you okay now?”

He nodded, his brain too rattled to find coherent words. The man released Donghyuck’s cheek, placing the hand on his shoulder instead, “Do you have panic attacks often?”

Panic attacks? Is that what they’re called? Donghyuck had always gotten worked up very quickly, but had never gotten to the point of hyperventilation and blurred vision. He assumed that meant he hadn’t suffered a panic attack before, and if he had, they were minor compared to that.

Taeil hummed, “That’s your second one since you’ve been here. You’ve only really been conscious for like less than an hour in total.”

Donghyuck remembered why Taeil’s voice had seemed so familiar to him, why he’d heard it before. Taeil had helped him when he’d woken up prior, his body on fire. He’d been there with the boy who’d held him down, whispering comforting words into his ears. Donghyuck remembered his eyes more than anything, how they glistened in the low light. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Taeil continued, rolling up his sleeves as he spoke, “I hear you’ve been through a very traumatic experience. This may just be a consequence as your mind tries to process and find its equilibrium again.” 

He knew what happened? More questions settled within his thoughts. If he knew what had happened, did that mean he had a role in it or was a bystander? 

The only one he could articulate was, “Why’d you blow in my face?”

“It gives you something to focus on besides breathing,” He explained, hands moving quickly as he spoke, “It works to ground you, give you something that you can hold onto and feel besides fear.”

Donghyuck hummed in affirmation. He wondered if that’d worked for everyone. How many times had he done that before? 

“Can I ask for your name?”

Donghyuck blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden question. He pondered if he should answer honestly for a second. Donghyuck’s name was really the only thing he actually owned, the only thing that was his through and through. He felt like he could at least trust Taeil not to kill him, if he’d wanted to do that, he’d have let him suffocate in the midst of his panic attack. This would be an offering of peace, he’d give them what they want so in return, they’d feel like they could share more information with him. Information, after all, was the endgame, why Donghyuck hadn’t attempted to fight his way out of there. That, and he was terribly outnumbered.

He pulled a small smile to his lips, playing the part of the nervous boy they must have believed him to be, “Lee Donghyuck.” 

Taeil seemed pleased with his answer, smiling down at him, “Alright then, Donghyuck, can you lay down for me? I want to check your wound.” 

Donghyuck didn’t like the way his chest felt warm upon hearing his name fall from the other’s lips with such fondness wrapped around it. Regardless, he nodded, scooting further into the bed. He settled comfortably within the silken blankets, allowing for the fresh scent of laundry detergent to fill his senses. It smelled  _ clean _ . Taeil chuckled, apparently amused by Donghyuck’s antics. If he found them odd, he didn’t say anything. 

Donghyuck looked around the room as Taeil poked at the bandages covering his stomach. His eyes fluttered from corner to corner, playing a guessing game in his mind of how much each item cost. He lost track after it exceeded several thousand. 

“Are you guys rich or what?” Donghyuck's voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. Taeil’s hands paused for a moment, seemingly startled, before continuing in their ministrations. Donghyuck held his breath, hoping Taeil would be more open about that, that he’d give him  _ something _ .. 

“You could say that.” Well that didn’t give Donghyuck shit. 

He brought a hand to his face, rubbing at his cheeks in frustration, “That’s really vague, Taeil, uh,” He paused, unsure of how to address the man before him.

“You can call me hyung,” He suggested, wrapping Donghyuck’s bandages back up, tucking them into place with ease, “Your wound looks like it’s healing well, you reopened it once while you were sleeping, but it seems to be fully closed now. It looks like a scab, but on the inside, you’ve got a lot more healing to do so be careful.”

“Right,” Donghyuck nodded, pulling the hoodie back down over his stomach. He sat up slowly, ribs burning with the effort.

_ “You’ll tear yourself open again,” _ The voice rang clear through his thoughts, those eyes pierced deeply into him. Interesting. 

“Your ribs, amazingly, weren’t broken when you got here,” Taeil’s voice called Donghyuck’s attention back to the moment at hand, “Just very badly bruised. They still are, hence why your chest is hurting.”

Donghyuck wasn’t sure what was so amazing about bruised ribs. He remembered the way it felt every time the man with the blue eyes’ foot planted against him, jolting him from side to side. He was sure he’d heard  _ something  _ break, but Donghyuck had always had a flair for the dramatic when it came to retelling stories, even to himself.

“Can you stand?”

“Why?” Donghyuck looked at the man wearily, unsure of what he wanted him to do. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, stubbornly looking up at Taeil with suspicious eyes. He sat up straight, ready to bolt if necessary.

Taeil’s smile fell slightly, noting Donghyuck’s sudden hesitancy around him. Had Donghyuck not just watched a hundred people get murdered and then proceed to be shot himself, he might have felt bad, “Taeyong wants to meet you.”

Donghyuck shook his head, demanding more from the man, “And who’s that?” 

Taeil sighed, “You’ll find out in a minute,” He pouted, squinting his eyes, but Taeil continued, “C’mon.”

“I don’t know who any of you people are or why you brought me here, and I’m just supposed to follow you?” He grabbed the silken sheets in his hands, fisting the soft material against his skin, “I’m not stupid.”

Taeil closed his eyes, nodding sympathetically, “If you really want to know, you have to go, okay? You won’t get answers from anyone else,” he reopened his eyes, staring down at him with what he assumed to be pity. Why?

“We’ve been ordered not to say anything until he can see you.” Donghyuck really didn’t get what was going on. The other boys had at least not meant to come off as vague, but Taeil was almost to the point of being standoffish. 

“Ordered?” Taeil sent Donghyuck a smile, lips pulled into a thin impenetrable line. Donghyuck groaned, kicking his feet against the side of the bed like a spoiled child. His ribs quickly decided that he’d been enough of a brat, angrily stinging. 

Taeil shook his head, “You’ll fit in just fine.” 

“I’ll what?” Taeil didn’t spare him a glance as he walked towards the door, pulling it open silently. He turned, raising a perfectly cut eyebrow at Donghyuck.

Well, that didn’t give him much of a choice now did it? 

He got to his feet slowly, body feeling much heavier than he’d remembered it. His stomach burned, warning him to take his time. He counted to three, steadying himself before taking short steps over to Taeil who was holding the door open for him. 

He walked into the hallway lined with ivory doors and pieces of art. It seemed to carry on forever, Donghyuck noted the small nuances within the decor. Between each door was a small thin table, upon it an arrangement of white flowers. It all felt very monotonous to Donghyuck, grey. There was no individuality within the hallway, nothing that stuck out, it was all very polished, rehearsed. It reminded him of how trapped he was.

Taeil matched his slow pace beside him, standing with a hand behind Donghyuck just short of touching him. He wondered if that was because Taeil was afraid that he would fall or that he’d run. He wasn’t sure which would cause him more overall damage. He didn’t run, and he wasn’t planning on it. Donghyuck wasn’t dead yet so that must at least mean something. Why try and connect with him if they were just gonna kill him? 

“Don’t freak out,” He almost didn’t hear Taeil, his voice low and serious. 

Donghyuck jerked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow in confusion, “What do you mean hy-”

The hallway ended abruptly and he was met with a long wooden staircase. At the bottom, in front of what he assumed to be the only exit to the place, were several men. By several, he meant many, a lot, a bunch, a ton. They were in various states of dress, from hoodies to leather jackets, jeans to slacks. He tried to make a quick mental count as he was helped down the stairs by Taeil.

Donghyuck shivered as all eyes turned to him, burning holes into various parts of his body. He could feel the intensity of every glance and it made his stomach turn anxiously. He watched his feet as he went down the stairs, afraid of the men waiting for him, but more afraid of falling down the stairs face first in front of them. 

Once he made it down somewhat gracefully, in less pain than he expected himself to be in, he looked up at the group in front of him. Twelve, he reminded himself, including Taeil who’d stilled behind him. The men were all distinctly different, varying in size and stature, hair color and clothing. He noticed Chenle waving at him from the far-right, jumping up and down beside Jisung. Donghyuck sent him back a small wave.

He’d only gotten through half of the group when a loud clap silenced all of his thoughts. A man stepped forward, leather loafers clicking against the pristine onyx tile as he moved. He wore a long black trench coat, the white button-up shirt under it popped open at the collar. His scarlet hair was pushed off of his forehead, revealing one of the most handsome faces Donghyuck had ever had the pleasure of seeing. That man was absolutely terrifying.

There was a blank expression on the man's features, a cold calm that made a chill run up his back. His eyes paced up and down Donghyuck’s frame, eventually stopping to hold his own. Everyone around him had stilled, as though entranced by his footsteps. The man looked around, clicking his tongue, before staring back at Donghyuck, his eyes staring through his body and into his soul. He had a power to him that he seemed to be keenly aware of. A small smirk curled the corner of the man’s lip, Donghyuck breathed in deeply. 

“Alright,” His voice cut through him, sending waves of anxiety down his spine, “It’s nice to meet you, kid.”

Donghyuck wanted to vomit, he’d never been so thoroughly intimidated by someone in his life, “I’m glad to see you on your feet and not leaking on my carpet.”

A protest erupted from the man’s right but was quickly silenced by the glare he’d sent forward. Donghyuck didn’t know what the man had meant by that but assumed he would probably be better off not knowing. The red-head tutted again, rubbing his neck with a calloused palm, “Regardless, welcome.”

Donghyuck wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer or not, and judging by the way the room became thick with tension, he decided he shouldn’t. He sent the man a nod, swallowing the questions that burned to escape his throat. That man was dangerous, they were all dangerous, Donghyuck could tell by the way they sized him up, twitching and ready for a fight. He hadn’t noticed he’d taken a step back until he felt Taeil’s hand come to rest in the slope of his back, a comforting gesture.

“We should formally introduce ourselves,” The man said, clasping his hands behind his back in a domineering stance. Donghyuck took in a shuddering breath, trying to keep from trembling. “My name is Taeyong and this,” he moved his arms out in a wide-sweeping gesture before dropping them back down by his side, “is 127.”

Donghyuck swore every man besides Taeyong had knelt on the floor, head bowed, eyes and mouth screwed shut, faster than he could have blinked. Silence overtook the room as Taeyong’s eyes remained transfixed with his wide ones. 

His aloof nature was not to be mistaken with carelessness. Donghyuck prided himself on knowing how to read a room, he knew when to be serious, after years of surviving day by day off of what he could scavenge, he was acutely aware of how quickly things could go bad. That being said, sometimes it was just a little too impossible to keep his mouth shut.

Donghyuck was too shocked to stop the words from leaving his mouth, loud and challenging, “What the fuck kind of cult shit is this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was that? I think in the next chapter we'll get into more of the world-building things so just bear with me until then. Who knows, we may even see a Mark centric section or two.
> 
> As always, questions and constructive criticism are always welcome! I'll try and answer any questions that I don't think spoil/have an answer in the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is always welcome and so are story ideas! I'll try and reply when I see them!


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